


Ivory Towers

by sunaddicted



Series: Riddlebird Week 2k18 [7]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Body Horror, M/M, Magic, Mythology References, Riddlebird Week 2k18, Soul Bond, Urban Fantasy, Wild Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 02:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: The waning gibbous moon shone upon them - a bad omen splattered against the night sky.





	Ivory Towers

_ Ivory Towers  _

Oswald looked down at himself, bright blue eyes taking in the familiar changes in his body: the empty gaping of his chest cavity, putting on obscene display the jagged ends of shattered ribs; the decaying flowers wilting through his ashen skin, torn by poisonous thorns sinking like teeth in his flesh; the blooming bruises pulsating violet and blue under the moonlight; the glittering of old scars that mirrored the constellations of dead stars in the night sky.  

He didn't think his mother had believed him when, as a child, in the morning he would slip into her bed, trembling with fear and excitement as he recounted his spirit's adventures, images of beautiful and terrifying creatures seared into the back of his eyelids - there to stay for the rest of his life. Oswald didn't blame his mother, though: she'd been the one to tell him the story in the first place after all, her purposefully dramatic voice recalling the tales of her childhood with its roots planted deep on European soil, soaked in the blood of ancient wars in the name of glory and immortality. 

Oswald himself wouldn't have believed in his own stories, hadn't he experienced them on his own flesh.  

He didn't know why he had been chosen for that first Hunt, a nightmare he hadn't been able to wake up from: as he was held prisoner against his will, they had torn through the woods surrounding the city - a voice screamed in bloodcurdling terror at their thunderous passage.

Oswald only knew that they kept calling him in his sleep, their pale voices deftly plucking his soul from his body and leaving only an empty shell behind. Growing up he learnt that the King of the Hunt had been fading away to nothingness and that, together with his spouse, he'd been chosen as his heir to lead his ghostly companions - evanescent corpses that burnt bright with spots of colour: dried up flowers that showered the ground with withered petals; wasting away organs that gleamed in the humid darkness of their slaughtered bodies; syrupy blood spilling like liquid rubies.   

Most of the party changed every night, made up of abducted spirits like his own; some of its members were permanent but like all things they too turned to ashes sooner or later; others weren't like them at all and they had scared Oswald even more than the dead and the lost souls - fairies, dark and bloodthirsty.  

“You need a Queen”

“I don't need anyone” Oswald sighed. 

“The Hunt needs a Queen” another voice chimed in “The rules can't be broken, not even for you”

He was getting tired of that argument; since he’d stepped into his place as King of the Hunt, the other hunters had been pestering him about finding a mate - someone who would ride in the dark by his side “I don't have a Queen” Oswald reminded his court.  

“Find one, then”

It clearly was easier said than done - what was he supposed to do? As he pondered his predicament, Oswald feathered his fingers along the smooth wood of his spear - it wasn't as nice and comforting as one of his guns, but apparently that wasn't the kind of weapon one could bring to a Wild Hunt. 

Such tedious traditions.  

“Let's hunt” Oswald ordered, hopping on his ghostly horse with a grace that he didn't possess while trapped in his body: his injuries didn't drag his spirit down, his joints didn't swell with inflammation and pain, his bones didn't ache “The moon has already risen” 

“By the time it turns its dark face to us, you'll have to bring a Queen in our midst”

“Or what?” Oswald bristled. 

“Or you'll be banished from your rightful kingdom, since you can't be bothered to keep it safe” 

The waning gibbous moon shone upon them - a bad omen splattered against the night sky.  

* * *

Finding a Queen for the Hunt in a little over a week seemed an impossible task: he would have to choose someone he could trust, he was too recognisable to afford bringing through the Veil someone who wanted to destroy him and would use literally anything to achieve their ends.  

Oswald sighed and wandered around in the night, trying to feel up the auras surrounding him - he didn't even know what a Queen was supposed to  _ feel _ like. 

And he sincerely hoped that Queen was a traditional term because if they thought he was binding himself to a woman, well they had another thing coming.  

Gotham was full of spirits: screaming, cackling and hysterical, dripping with blood that didn't stain the streets - not that it made any difference, it wasn't as if the city's streets needed more blood on them.  

He gave a wide berth to a dark fairy and disappeared into an alleyway, bathing in the sickly yellow light of the lamp posts that drowned the moonlight: it didn't seem like he would find a Queen that night. His time was running painfully short but Oswald didn't know what else he could do - it already was more effort than he had ever planned on in order to find a partner. 

Oswald tilted his head to the side when he felt a familiar energy pulse in his brain, rolling his eyes: was someone from the Hunt party really following him to make sure that he was looking for a Queen? He turned around to glare at whoever was tailing him but Grundy Street was completely empty - eerily so, considering that Oswald could see more than just the living.  

Where was that aura coming from, though?

And where had he felt it before?

Oswald frowned as he looked up the buildings, peering through the walls in search of the glowing of a soul - the glimmer of a restless spirit. 

A small apartment flashed a violent green and Oswald bled into the building, wafting up to number 805: there was something strange in the air, burning up with barely repressed energy - almost ready to blow up and raze the whole block to the ground.  

There was  _ power.   _

Pure, glorious and delicious power - Oswald could taste it on his tongue, a syrupy wine that shot straight up to his head and enveloped his brain in a blissful vapour.  

He  _ craved  _ it.  

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here”

Oswald blinked in shock: one man,  _ two _ spirits. 

And apparently, they didn't get along. 

“I'm not talking to you” the one detached from the body snarled, clearly annoyed.  

The other one turned and squinted around the room, brown wavy hair flopping over his forehead “There's no one here”

A long suffering sigh “Second sight”

“Mr Penguin!”

Oswald felt the muscle just under his right eye twitch in annoyance at the nickname but he was too intrigued to kill the other man - for now, at least “Do I know you?”

The other man nodded so enthusiastically that it looked like the head might come off of the body “I'm Edward.  Nygma” a huge smile full of hope and excitement framed his words “We met at the GCPD”

_ Oh.  _ The forensic scientist with a penchant for riddles - yes, Oswald remembered him “You have two souls”

“Wrong”

Edward shot a glare to his double, all bones and birds pecking at them “My soul has two projections: I'm Ed and he's the Riddler”

_ Fascinating.   _

“That explains why I've never seen you at the Hunt. You're shunned, aren't you?”

They both bristled “Not many spirits take part in the Hunt” 

“Would you like to?”

The Riddler snorted “Don't offer what you can't give”

Oswald arched an eyebrow “I'm the King of the Hunt” he revealed, plunging his fingers in his insides to draw out a golden coin - his emblem, iridescent under the thin veil of blood sliding off of its surface “I need a Queen”

“I'm not a woman” Edward blurted but his big brown eyes were focused on the coin, his would flickering in and out of his body - eager to come out and join them. 

“It's only a moniker”

“What if it isn't?” the Riddler asked, hovering closer. 

“We'll make sure that it is” Oswald promised, glowing a dark purple in the toxic green “You and I, we can rule together beyond the veil  _ and  _ on this earth - do you really want to pass the chance up?” He inquired, extending his palm towards the other man. 

Edward plucked the golden coin out of it, swallowed it down. 

The settling of their bond shook Gotham to its core.  

_ Blood would run in the streets.   _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and commented on the stories of this week, love you lots ♡


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